Johanna Mason: Blood and Tears
by Graceaga
Summary: The moment Johanna Mason realizes there is no one left she loves. Set a month or so after she became a victor. One shot.


I let my eyes focus on the blade of knife, for a moment, as it lies, harmlessly, in my the palm of my right hand.

_Right, _I think, once I've been looking at it for too long _Time to get started._

I extend one wrist out and take a proper grip on the knife with the other. The blade slices through my skin with ease, and I wince at the slight burning sensation it causes. It feels like a dream, the light-headedness, but it is better than any nightmare the games have given me. For once, since I arose as victor, I am in charge. I continue using the knife to draw more blood from my arm. I lower my left arm into the bath water for a moment to allow the blood to spiral and swirl. I smile as I watch the crimson pattern become larger and larger.

This'll please Snow. Victor for less than a year, and already mentally unstable. There's nobody left I love, so why should I care? He can't do much more, can he?

As I lift my arm from the body of bloody red water, a single tear slides down my face and mingles with the droplets of blood. Yesterday was worse than anything I was forced to face in the games. And Snow knows it.

_They all stand with their heads held high, meeting the capitols unjustness with defiance, just like any other mason would. I can't do anything, for peacekeepers hold my struggling body in place. I am forced to watch. _

_This, my family dying, is all my fault. That's what Snow wants me to know. Wants me to think. If I had done what he had wanted, my family would have lived. But, no, I had to refuse, and what's more I shoved it back in his face with a defiant, rebellious line tagged onto the end._

_Father is first, he smiles at me, comfortingly, just as he did the day I was reaped. I watch the head peacekeeper train a gun on fathers head, but he doesn't give father time for last words, he just shoots. For the rest of my life, the last image I'll have of my father will be his lifeless body falling to the ground._

_Mother draws the shape of a cross over her chest as the gun points to her head. She is obviously been crying a lot, recently, but she still manages to give the signature look of defiance that marks us Masons from any other family from district seven._

_My big brother Oak starts yelling, once mother and father are dead and he knows it is his turn._

_"This is unjust! I have committed no crimes! We have t-" The bullet reaches his head before the district can hear the rest of his rebellious words. If not, we'd have the Whole country in rebellion. We wouldn't want that, would we?_

_Finally my sister, my sweet innocent little sister, is forced to the front of the stage to take her death penalty. This is even more unjust than the hunger games. She is seven years old, how could they kill her like this? How could they kill her at all? I watch the tears slipping down her cheeks, that's when I stop my struggling._

_"Sparrow!" I shout over the din, "You'll be okay! Remember what you told me after the reaping?"_

_I can't hear her, but I can see her lips moving as she says the words, "A place of happiness and light,"_

_Those are the last words my sister said, for the bullet collides with her head, at that moment._

_As soon as the peacekeepers release me, I charge towards the bodies. Its like being in the arena all over again. Only, this time, the victims are my family rather than a bunch of people from the other districts. _

_I wrap my arms around Sparrows body, wishing I could hear her laughter one last time. Wishing I had made a different choice so she could carry on living._

_Then, my best friend is beside me. Jarrah doesn't utter soothing words, try to calm me, or say anything rebellious. He just sits there with me, and I bet he is remembering my family, just as I am._

_At least I still have Jarrah. At least Snow didn't make me watch them put a bullet through Jarrah's head, too._

_No matter what else Snow makes me face, I will always have Jarrah by my side._

That's what I thought, anyway. I was too stupid to realize what snow intended to do.

I found Jarrah, this morning, face down on my living room carpet with an axe sticking out of his head. I knew I could do nothing to save him, just as I knew the first career I killed wouldn't be able to murder any more tributes. My best friend and that career died in the exact same way.

How strange.

I lift my arm from the water, and press the knife's blade into my other arm, this time I cut deeper, some of them over where I know my scars would be. Soon, the blood is dripping down both arms and covering me with more blood than when I killed the last career.

They say, the day after that fight, was the day my oldest and closest brother Squirrel was killed by a felled tree. I was so innocent before, I believed it was just a tragic accident. Now, I know the truth. A president would find it quite easy to stage such an incident.

As I lift my blood covered arms in front of my face, my vision becomes hazy.

_This is it. _The moment I prove to president Snow that I am no longer a piece in his sick little game.

Everything blurs in front of my eyes, a yellowish vision that is the norm for morphling addicts. I make sure I smile, for there is sure to be a camera somewhere, filming my last moments.

"Congratulations, Snow!" my voice yells out on its own accord, jumping crazily in and out of tune, "You did it, you broke Me!"

I want to say more but my mind is confused and the knife slips from my clasp and clatters onto the pure white tiled floor.

"Johanna! Are you okay in there?" The voice of my mentor, Blight, calls from outside the door.

From the sounds of things, he must of heard the words I just yelled.

But I don't answer, I just keep the crazed smile on my face as I slip into what I think is the murky depths of death.


End file.
